


The Free and the Bound

by blingyeol



Category: SHINee
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, M/M, Slaves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-07
Updated: 2016-04-07
Packaged: 2018-05-27 02:55:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6266710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blingyeol/pseuds/blingyeol
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Were you ever?” Jinki asked. “Bound?” Key looked at him questioningly and Jinki had to smile. “All this time I’ve been wondering whether you were truly the slave and me the lord."</p><p>There was a world of difference between the branded slaves and the free men in the city of Qali but Jinki liked to deliberately forget all about that, especially where Key was concerned.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Jinki

**Author's Note:**

> //see end notes for warning comments; I don't like applying warnings that could spoil the story but at the same time I understand that some people prefer to know, so see the end notes if you do!//

The mansion exceeded his expectations. Qali was a rich city and Jinki knew the merchant to be a prosperous man but that did not stop him from gaping in awe at the building that was as close to a palace as one could get without offending the Emperor. The mansion was hid behind high walls on the south side and defended by a mountain in the north. _Much rather a fortress than a mansion_ , Jinki noted. But whether the walls were a protection from the outside world or a curtain hiding the things inside, he couldn’t say.

 The slave that had opened the gate for Jinki also guided him towards the house, through a sand path lined with carefully trimmed bushes of marigolds. The mansion’s terrace was buried under tangles of cypress vine but here and there he could see the white marble beneath. The door was made of heavily ornamented teak and when it opened, Jinki had to remind himself not to show his astonishment too much. 

So he did his best to ignore the ceilings that were almost as high as those in churches, the dark furniture inlaid with gold, the thick silk carpets and instead greeted the merchant with a polite bow. Choi Yun did not meet Jinki’s expectations either. Unlike the merchants he’d met before this one was thin as a stick and had grey-ish hair and a rather pale complexion. He had an aura of dignity and importance about him, though. 

“It is a pleasure to meet you at last,” Jinki said. “And let me thank you for being as generous as to invite me to your household.” 

The merchant smiled, uncovering perfectly white teeth. “The pleasure is mine. Please, let us move to the drawing room.” 

What the merchant called a drawing room could have easily passed for a throne room. There was enough space for a table with sixteen chairs and divans and coffee tables that lined both of the longer walls. A massive hearth dominated the far end of the room; something that Jinki wasn’t used to seeing around here, where the winters were warm and summers warmer. He hoped mentioning it would not be pointing out his fascination with the wealth of the place as much as simple curiousity.

 “Ah, the hearth,” the merchant gave it a disinterested look, “my wife used to love warmth. Even the summer nights here felt chilly to her, so we had hearths built throughout the house.”

 “Excuse my asking so but is your lady wife not around anymore?” Jinki knew all too well the merchant’s wife had moved back to her parents’ house in a land far away because the marriage had disappointed her. Everyone in the city knew but no one ever talked about it and bluntly asking the merchant was Jinki’s best idea of pretending not to know.

 The merchant waved his hand impatiently. “She’s gone. Now I barely light up the hearths, only occasionally when I come across scented wood. It is a rather rare thing, though.”

 Jinki couldn’t imagine anything being rare for a person with a vast supply of money and various goods from lands far beyond. It was said that Choi Yun traded with absolutely anything but never with goods that weren’t earning much. One summer he’d be seen unloading ships full of choice fabrics and the the next one he’d be bringing in sought after food. He was a shrewd man and Jinki worried whether he could win him over with mere words. 

Food was brought out and put onto the round table in the middle of the room. Two of the three slaves bringing it in were not branded, Jinki noticed. Neither was a handsome young singer that was called out to sing for them. It was a treacherous hobby to collect the so-called “free” slaves. They obeyed you all the same but they were also free to leave their service should their debts be paid. In Jinki’s household, there was just the one free slave and that was a girl of fifteen that served as his sister’s handmaiden. 

“So,” the merchant said as the young singer started on his harp. “You come with an offer I believe.” 

So he had. But Jinki wished it didn’t have to be him; he was not good at business, and especially so when it was his own sister he was trying to _sell_. “The eldest daughter in our family is seventeen this year, my lord. Our father intends to marry her off and it would be an honour to see our families joined.” 

The merchant knew about the offer, of course. Otherwise he wouldn’t have invited Jinki but pretending not to know seemed to be one of the many customs in this city.

 “Let’s talk about your fair sister, then.”

 All throughout the talks, Jinki made sure not to mention anything about the dowry and praised the long lineage of his family, even making up a few grand-uncles here and there. The merchant was fairly new to the city and wouldn’t know anyway.

 It had grown darker, outside just as well as inside and Jinki felt lightheaded from the heavy wine they had been drinking. That and the singer’s beautiful voice, which had proved to be a great distraction. The boy was named Jonghyun, as Jinki had learnt and was a natural talent that the merchant came across in one of the churches in the city.

 “It is getting late and I would hate to show myself as a host without manners,” the merchant cut off their talk just as Jinki forced down a sixth glass of wine (which was made of crystal and decorated with sapphires). “Jonghyun will lead you to a room upstairs. Whatever you require, just tell him or any other slaves around. I wish you a pleasant night.”

 As he rose to his feet, Jinki bowed to the merchant and followed Jonghyun out, careful not to lose balance as he was feeling a bit dizzy. For once he was glad for the custom to stay at the host’s house for the night. A comfortable bed in a mansion like this sounded very tempting just then.

 The slave singer guided him upstairs and through the first door of many in a hallway lighted with candles in gilded sconces on the walls. The boy was shorter than him and thinner, his waist so tiny Jinki imagined him in those tight-waisted robes that ladies wore. He giggled and earned a scornful look from Jonghyun.

 “I’m sorry, it’s the wine,” Jinki said as an apology. The boy did not reply to that. There was a certain solemness or sadness about him, Jinki realized. His shoulders were slumped and he ran off as soon as Jinki entered the room. He meant to ask for a flagon of water but he could ask the bedmates when they came.

 That they would come was without a doubt. Generally there weren’t that many slaves for just that one purpose but it went without saying that you have to honour your guests with food, drink, music and entertainment. _Another goddamn custom_ , Jinki thought. He wasn’t particularly fond of the customs. They were like chains binding a person.

 “S-sir,” a tiny voice called out from behind him.

 Jinki turned around and looked over the lanky, doe-eyed girl standing in the doorway, her lips slightly parted. _Why do they always have to be doe-eyed and timid?_

 “I am send to p-pleasure you. O-or if you would prefer a boy…”

 Jinki had been thinking whether the timidness was an act or not when the mentioned boy entered the room, him being a pure opposite of the girl. He was young yet mature in a way, with sensual lips and fox eyes, his transparent silk garb showing a curved body not unlike a woman’s underneath.

 “I can introduce myself, thank you very much,” he said in a voice a tone lower than Jinki had pictured. The slave boy gave him a look, staring into his eyes only and so intently Jinki had to look away first. 

The boy smiled playfully. “I daresay the young master has chosen.” 

Jinki snapped out of his momentary daze and blamed it on the wine. “And you are right. I am sorry, my fair lady but you are free for the night. But please, do fetch me a flagon of water before you retire.”

 The girl curtsied and marched away. Jinki couldn’t fail to notice how fast and confidently she suddenly walked. The boy stayed, the smile still playing upon his lips. Jinki tried not to concentrate on the slave’s lips too much and walked around the bed to sit down instead. “What’s your name, boy?”

 “I was born as someone else but here I am called Key.” The boy sat next to him and slowly moved his hand towards Jinki’s belt.

 “I’m afraid I’ll prove a disappointment to you, Key.”

 “How so?”

 The leather belt came undone when Jinki stayed his hand. “It is disrespectful to refuse a bedmate, so I couldn’t do that. But I am not up to anything. If you want to sleep, sleep. If not, I’ll gladly talk with you through the night, though I might fall asleep sooner. Your master offers too much wine, the guests are like to drown themselves in it.”

 Key considered that for a while, then yanked Jinki’s belt off. “I am not here for sleep or talk,” he said and tugged on Jinki’s gathered pants.

 It would be a lie if Jinki claimed he had never let a slave into his bed but most of the time, he refused such hospitality, as politely as only possible. He wasn’t an idealistic lover who’d not want sex with a slave but it simply wasn’t his way of doing things. However it was very hard to stick by your way of doing things when you were drunk, both on wine and on your companion’s beauty.

 Key’s hands were very delicate yet callused, which didn’t fit the eerie feeling the boy was giving off. Jinki wanted to ask about that. He also wanted to stand his ground and refuse him again. But then Key’s hands were wrapped around him and it felt so good that all of his arguments vanished into thin air.

 Jinki closed his eyes, feeling the pleasant dizziness and the aftertaste of the sour wine on his tongue. For a moment Key let go of him, only to get on his knees and use his mouth. Jinki lost all second thoughts then. All too soon, he felt the warmth spreading in his groin and groaned in pleasure.

 “You were right,” Key said when he stood up. “You did prove a bit disappointing.”

 This time it was Jinki’s turn to ask, “How so?” 

“You finished too early.” 

“Oh, I disagree,” Jinki objected, watching those beautiful lips curled into a playful smirk. “I’m not quite finished yet.”

 Key laughed. “You’ve changed your mind quite easily.” 

Jinki could feel a throbbing pain somewhere behind his eyes, from all the wine. But all he could think about at the moment was Key’s smile, his delicate fingers and the flowy garb that hardly covered the boy’s private parts.

 Someone knocked at the door and Jinki made to cover himself with a thin, beautifully ornamented blanket. It was the doe-eyed girl bringing him his water. Jinki thanked her and got up to quench his thirst as soon as she was gone.

 “How did you end up here?” Jinki had always liked listening to people’s stories and he yearned to know more about this boy in particular.

 Key made himself comfortable on the huge canopied bed, his back propped up by a handful of colourful pillows. “Not by talking.”

 “I can imagine,” Jinki said and smiled into his cup.

 “Oh, can you?” Key teased, in a way that all whores always did but Jinki had never found that as arousing as when this boy did it.

 “I want to hear your story,” he insisted while sipping his water and trying his best to ignore Key’s legs that were spread markedly wider than moments before. 

“Most people want to fuck me.” 

 _That I do too,_ Jinki thought sullenly but said, “I’m not most people.” 

“To be sure.” Key untied the laces keeping his transparent outfit together and let them fall onto the bed. Beneath, his skin was milky white, almost as white as the skin of northern people and there was not a single hair anywhere, not even around his private parts. The only distraction to the perfect skin was the faded tattoo above his defined collarbones, branding him a slave.

 Jinki felt himself stiffen at the sight, cursing his own body for betraying him. “Why is it that I lose every argue with you?”

 Key laughed and rose, moving slowly and sensually towards him. Jinki was mesmerized by his elegance. When they were close enough, Jinki ran his hand through the boy’s soft, shoulder-length hair and pulled them closer still, eyes fixed on Key’s lips.

 But Key put a finger on Jinki’s lips. “No kissing.”

 That was a harsh slap. Those sharply shaped lips were made for kissing and he won’t get to try them. It drove him just as mad as disappointed. He kissed Key’s neck instead and sucked on so hard he heard the boy hiss.

 They grinded their bodies together and Jinki felt the heat spreading through all of him. Key’s skin was as delicate to touch as it was to look upon. Unlike his rough hands every inch of it was as soft as silk. If it weren’t for the throbbing tension in his groin, Jinki would love to spend hours just admiring the boy’s body.

 Instead he shuffled them towards the bed and abruptly turned Key around, forcing him to bend. When he entered him, the boy screamed and continued to moan and pant with every thrust. It sounded so artificial Jinki stopped and yanked Key’s head upwards. “Don’t.”

 Slowly, he started on again and wrapped a hand around Key’s cock, which earned him a soft, more sincere moan. Jinki let himself be carried away by the pleasure of their bodies this close, of the softness of Key’s skin and the faint nutmeg smell about him.

 Jinki finished first and then helped Key, until they were a mess of limbs lying on the bed, sweating and catching their breaths. They heard distant music from behind the door and Jinki wondered if it’s Jonghyun playing his harp. The air was as stifling as a hot summer day outside, so he lazily got up to draw the heavy curtains apart and open the window. It was considerably cooler outside, the stars bright and cicadas playing their own music.

 “So, can I hear your story now?” Jinki stayed by the window but turned around to watch the boy sprawled on the bed, the sheets a tangled mess beneath him.

 “I was born and raised here. My mother was a whore, just like her mother before. It runs in the family, just like perfect bodies like these.” Key waved his hand about his chest, smiling.

 Jinki studies his face, full of mischief and playfulness but with something hiding right beneath that mask. “A lie. Not a bad one, though. You do look like someone born to be a bedmate. But you were not.”

 Key’s smile wavered for a moment. “No,” he admitted. 

When he made no initiative to continue, Jinki grabbed a bathrobe carefully folded on a chest next to him and covered himself. “I probably won’t ever win you, will I? Fine, I’ll share my story first.”

 Key looked visibly relieved. “Be my guest.”

 “I am here to plead your master to marry his son to my sister.” Jinki’s first instinct was to weigh his words, wondering how much of what he said would reach the merchant’s ears. He knew he ought to be careful but something in him wanted to talk about everything and anything with Key.

 “What a dutiful brother you are,” Key said.

 “I don’t really have a say in this, do I? It’s customary for the oldest son to come offering his sisters, like a merchant would come to a market to sell a goat. It’s never been my thing, the customs.” They were a hassle more often than not and though everyone abode by them, there was no sincerness in them. And Jinki hated all the fake smiles and insincere blessings. 

He thought of his sister Subin, a cheerful young girl who once stopped all the carriages and horses on Qali’s busiest street just because there was a dead cat the carriages kept going over. Then he thought of the merchant and all the luxury in his mansion, reeking of greed and deception. The unpleasant thoughts sent a chill down his spine and Jinki moved away from the window.

 “Tell me, how is the merchant’s son?” Jinki slid beneath the blanket, propping himself up on an elbow.

 “Minho? He’s not like his father,” Key said. “Nor like his younger brother. If your sister ends up marrying him, she will be very lucky.”

 “That is good to hear.” No one in his family was especially happy about this move of their stubborn father but if Choi Minho was a good man, Jinki could live with it more easily. “I wouldn’t want to give my sister away to someone like the merchant. But don’t tell him I said that.”

 “I had sisters too, once.” Key played with one of his longish sand-coloured locks. “Before I was sold, much like a goat. I bet my mother would have received more money for a goat, though. Goats are rare, slaves are not.”

 That much was true. The religion of the Three required animal sacrifices and goats were the first ones to go, until the capital had to start importing them from north. Whereas a decade ago, slaves had already made up a third of the city’s population; Jinki had read that in one of the accounting books in the library. He didn’t dare guess how many slaves were in the city nowadays.

 “I would give a hundred goats for you,” Jinki blurted out. He felt tired, drunk and sour while Key was honey-sweet and so, so beautiful.

 Key laughed out, his voice resounding in the room with its high ceiling. “If only you were the one buying me when I was twelve, my mother would be living in a mansion like this now.”

 “Tell me of your mother.”

 Key made a face. “Do you know of a worse topic for bed talk? I think not. Let me tell you how I got to be called Key instead.”

 Jinki nodded, already drowsing as Key started his story. There was a prince - later Jinki could not recall if it was the Prince or just some princeling from distant lands - that was a guest under the merchant’s roof. He spent the night with Key just as Jinki did and he fell in love with him. So, he called him a key to his heart and that name took up, being shortened to _Key_ for convenience.

 If any of that was true, Jinki could not say. All he had known when he woke up with the first rays of sunshine and the birds chirping was that he felt exactly the same way the prince did.

 

Jinki’s father was pleased. If his words did not convey it, his self-satisfied smile did. Jinki thought of the time when he came home with a parchment stating he had officially attained the Academy’s highest degree and how his father just nodded. Hearing that the merchant played a gracious host and that Jinki stayed there overnight and well into the noon gave him the true satisfaction. It was the family legacy he lived for, not the talents of his children.

 But nothing was settled yet. Jinki officially met the merchant’s son Minho over the breakfast at the mansion and they talked a lot but the marriage was not mentioned as often as he had expected. Sometimes the courtship could take weeks or even months, Jinki knew. Still, he did not feel good about it. Minho was as decent a boy as Key claimed but it was his father’s consent they needed.

 But that afternoon, as Jinki lost himself in the books, it was not his sister’s marriage he was thinking of. He remembered the way Key’s lips curled in his wicked smile and the way his back arched when he felt pleasure. Jinki started to feel a familiar tingling sensation spreading through his groin but was snatched from his daydreaming by a loud _thump_ of the door being slammed open.

 “Sorry,” his little brother apologized, to the door as much as to Jinki. Lee Taemin was four years younger than him but still a man grown, at least when you considered his age and turned a blind eye on his behaviour. “How did it go?” 

“I was drowned in wine, fucked a beauty and some buttering up happened on both sides but I still don’t know whether the trade was successful or not.”

 “Don’t talk like that,” Taemin said, sitting on the desk and partially on the book Jinki was reading moments ago. “I don’t like it when you’re all sour and sarcastic.”

 He pulled it from beneath him, patting its crumpled pages. “The wine was too sour, is all.” 

Jinki smiled brightly, dismissing the dark clouds. He was a cheerful boy by nature, much like Taemin but sometimes the world dragged him down. “Do you want to hear about the beauty?”

Throughout the storytelling, Jinki found himself creating things up rather than saying the truth. _What else can I tell him?_ he thought. _That I didn’t mean to abide by the custom, as I usually don’t, that the boy was too beautiful to refuse him and that afterwards, when I woke up alone in the room, my chest burned and I couldn’t get him out of my head, not then and not now?_


	2. Key

Jonghyun had been awake when Key slipped back into their shared room. He was sitting by his harp, fingers ready to play but he seemed to be lost in thoughts instead.

“Play the one I like,” Key pleaded.

Jonghyun looked at him, eyes ice cold and distant. Every time he got all serious like this, the boy could look aloof, scary even. It was when he smiled that Key liked him the best, but smiles did not come easily to him on nights like these.

“I don’t know which one you like,” Jonghyun said, “and I’m done for today. It’s late.”

Their room was a modest one, yet still filled with luxurious furniture, including two beautifully carved beds by the windows. Jonghyun slipped under the blanket of the one closer to the door and turned his back to Key.

They had known each other since forever. First memory that Key could recall was of them running along the fish markets and Jonghyun knocking off a basket full of oysters. He remembered the angry merchant and the spanking they got, just as well as Jonghyun’s sobs and apologies. They grew up poor and they were both sold to slavery but each of them at different times, under different conditions. 

It took seven years for them to meet again and when you were a boy of twelve, seven years made a world of difference. Sometimes Key wondered what would have happened to them if they were together in this from the beginning. It was a tricky thing to figure, with the seven years changing everything about the boy once known as Kim Kibum.

Jonghyun stirred and turned to face Key just as he was starting to doze off. “Did you like him?”

“It’s my job, Jjong, I did not choose it. And no, I did not like him,” Key said matter-of-factly.

When Jonghyun came into the merchant’s house some year ago, Kibum had been just getting used to being in Key’s skin. He had been just as much annoyed by the change in his duties as his childhood friend and Jonghyun’s scowls had only made everything worse. 

“You always say you didn’t like them,” Jonghyun complained. “But you moon over them all the same.”

“I don’t-” Key started, voice raised. Then he made himself pause and speak more calmly. “I don’t  _ moon over _ anyone. I just do my job, for heaven’s sake. Jjong, I don’t want this either.”

As many times as he’d told him, Jonghyun still didn’t believe him. Key couldn’t blame him. He did lie sometimes but he had never felt as bad about it as today. 

It really  _ was _ late, Key realized when he saw the darkness lifting up in the room. Usually, he slipped back in as soon as he finished his duty but today he stayed much longer. Lee Jinki fell asleep sometimes during his storytelling and Key continued to watch him. He looked much more the boy he was when asleep, huddled up under the blanket, his eyebrows raised and lips parted.

Key watched him and thought how lucky Jinki was. He had everything; a family, money, a future. And yet Key could not envy him, not in a bad way because Jinki seemed genuine enough to actually deserve it all.

  
  


The streets were noisy, filled with people and horses. Down by the harbour fishermen tried to outshout each other and singing and laughing sailors were everywhere. Key felt nostalgic every time he walked through the streets he grew up in. His family was still there somewhere but he made no effort to look for them. They would be strangers to him now; his sisters turned into women he did not know.

“Are you hungry?” Choi Minho had always been kind to Key. He had manners and he did not play the lords’ game of dividing people into the rich and the poor, the free and the slaves.

Key shook his head. “Not really. And there will be food inside anyway. Let’s just go.”

The bathhouse was almost as noisy as the streets. Singers and dancers performed in the lounge and the house seemed full, just as it had usually been in the evenings. Key watched the dancers while Minho greeted a few acquaintances and then they headed towards the baths that were as huge as small lakes, with little islands in the middle where people sat on pillows.

These were the most luxurious baths in the city, so naturally everyone who mattered frequented them. Generally everything of importance seemed to happen in the bathhouses and Key found it amusing to watch the fat, half-naked politicians talk business with a dignity of well dressed nobles in palace halls.

Key liked tagging along with Minho. He never listened to the talks, instead he enjoyed the freedom to stroll through the bathhouse, watch the performers and eat and drink whatever he wanted. Sometimes Jonghyun would come and they would pretend to be some lords, imitating the serious expressions of politicians and talking about the situation in the city.

It felt lonely today. Minho was already engaged in an important discussion with someone Key didn’t recognize and the dancers were on a break. The air was stifling, so Key headed out towards the exit just when he noticed  _ him  _ entering the lounge.

Key weaved his way through a group of people to get as close as possible without being spotted until he said softly, “Look who’s here.”

Jinki got startled at the whisper but a smile formed on his lips as soon as he saw Key. He looked him up and down and Key suddenly felt very conscious of the revealing garb he was wearing. It wasn’t a transparent one but it had his stomach showing and that was where Jinki’s eyes naturally wandered. 

“You’re here with the merchant, I suppose,” Jinki said. “I had hoped to meet him here.”

“Not the merchant but Minho,” Key corrected him. “But he’s busy having a debate with someone just now, which is why I got the freedom of the castle… or well, the bathhouse.”

Jinki’s eyes searched the crowds around them, weighing every person and anything he knew about them. Key had seen Minho and the merchant do the same a hundred times before. He gently weaved his arm through Jinki’s and interrupted his investigation. “It will take a while for them to finish talking. Why don’t we use the time wisely?”

Jinki looked towards the baths, possibly considering whether joining in the important conversations wouldn’t be what you’d call  _ wise _ . He let himself be dragged away all the same, with Key leading them out of the lounge and towards the few changing rooms located just before the bath rooms.

The changing rooms were the size of a closet, narrow with doors on one side and a wooden seat on the opposite one. 

Key started undressing Jinki as soon as they closed the door behind them, his fingers fumbling to untie the laces on Jinki’s pants.

_ I just do my job _ , he heard himself.  _ I don’t  _ moon over _ anyone _ .  _ I don’t want this. _

Except he did. 

He felt the flutter in his stomach and down below, his hands tracing Jinki’s broad shoulders and his back. Jinki made to kiss him and Key pushed him away, laughing.

“You have a bad memory.”

“Not really,” Jinki made to grab the boy’s cock over the flowy fabric and yanked hard. “I remember you liked this.”

Watching Key getting aroused had Jinki stiffening up in no time and he hastily pushed them towards the seat, planting sloppy kisses on Key’s collarbones. But Key wriggled free and turned them around. Even this time Jinki lost, letting himself sink down onto the bench. Key shed the last pieces of his clothes and climbed on top of him, his muscles all flexed when he lowered himself, wincing.

They went slow at first, Key doing most of the moving and Jinki kissing him everywhere but on the lips. Key felt the sweat forming on his forehead and dripping over his nose. It was hot in the bathhouse and humid and the air was filled with scented candles, making it heavier still.

Jinki moved his hips up, faster with every move and they both rose and fell in unison, panting heavily. Key’s legs started to cramp but all he could feel was the pleasure spreading through his body. They were right at that sweet moment and Key closed his eyes, tilting his head back. But then Jinki pulled him back by his neck and kissed him on the lips.

Key didn’t fight it this time. He was nearly  _ there _ and Jinki’s lips and tongue felt so good. There was a sweet smell to him, reminding Key of the cinnamon rolls that were sold at the markets and smelled sweetly for miles around. They kissed until they were out of breath and then Key felt the pleasure spasming through his body.

Jinki laughed when they were sitting side by side, flushed and catching their breaths. “I’ve finally won.”

“Just because I let you,” Key objected. “And that I did just because I felt sorry for you. A young lord who will never get to kiss a boy or a girl until he’s given some wealthy, fat cow to be his wife.”

All the nobles that Key met were like that. They were greedy and yearned for some excitement and each of them wanted to kiss him but he never let them. Jinki acted the same yet there was something different about it and it was strong enough to make Key break his own rules. It left him feeling somewhat bitter.

“Whatever,” said Jinki. “You should do as I say since I’ve won. And I command you to tell me more about yourself.”

The story that Key usually told others was as far from truth as possible and it changed from person to person. But there weren’t that many who ever showed any interest in anything else but his private parts, so the story had only two or three alternatives. Jinki would be the first to hear the boring truth.

“My mother sold me when I was twelve, I already told you that. I was the youngest of four and my dad died in war. It’s never easy to feed four kids, especially when you live in the capital and have no land of your own. I don’t blame her, only-”  _ only I do,  _ Key thought.  _ I hate her for taking my life away from me. _ “It made me sad. I scarce ate and my first owner sold me soon afterwards because I was too weak to do any hard work on the ships.”

“Is that why you have callused hands?” Jinki took those hands into his own, stroking the hardened skin on Key’s fingers.

Key shook his head. “I didn’t stay long at the ships. It’s the bathhouses that gave me the crude hands. Scrubbing dirty floors, washing dirty towels and bedsheets, that’s what I was doing before the merchant found me.”

_ Lucky you _ was what the fellow slaves in the bathhouse told him when he was leaving. Yet he would give anything to return to the scrubbing. Maybe he could even become one of those glorious dancers ever present in the lounges.

“I’m sorry.”

That took Key away from his thoughts. “Why?”

“Because you don’t seem to like it at the merchant’s. Am I wrong?” Jinki raised his eyebrows, his hand still holding onto Key’s, ever so gently.

There was pure kindness in the boy, Key realized. If he were to meet him on the streets and if it weren’t for the differences that clothes made, Key would have never guessed him to be a noble. But no matter how kind Jinki was, he was still superior to him and would always be. Key had learnt that difference the hard way once and was not about to repeat his mistakes.

“I am as happy as a slave can be,” he said, eyes fixed on the ground. “And much better fed and dressed than most of them, so I have no rights to complain.”

Jinki didn’t say anything to that but he didn’t stop looking at Key either, studying his face, his lowered eyes and his hands, now folded in Key’s lap. It made Key uncomfortable, so he got up abruptly and said, “I should go back.”

  
  


It was pleasantly cool outside, the wind picking up at their clothes as they made their way back to the mansion. Minho spoke of everything he’d heard tonight in the bathhouse but Key wasn’t paying much attention. He nodded occasionally and thought all was well until Minho said: “You’re thinking about Lee Jinki, aren’t you?”

“I’m just tired.” That much was true. Key didn’t sleep much last night and the whole household was always up and running with sunrise, waking him up with all the clatter in the kitchens near their room. But tired or no, he did think of Jinki and what to make of him.

Minho saw them coming out of the same changing room, he knew that. But Minho would never mention that directly, so Key tried to change the subject, knowing that would end any talk about it. 

The mansion was lit from the inside only, so they walked through the dark garden, sand cracking beneath their feet. Inside, Minho made for his room upstairs but turned around after taking the first step. “You know, father is going away tomorrow and is expected to return within a fortnight. I thought you could enjoy a little freedom, so you’re welcome to go out whenever and wherever you want.”

_ Freedom _ , Key thought bitterly but thanked him anyway. No one could give him the real freedom but some days off were a nice change. The merchant often left and returned but never for that long. He hardly ever sailed his own ships and preferred to run things from the city. 

As he was falling asleep, Key thought of what to do with all this free time. There were a few bathhouses that hired dancers from the streets, just for the night and he had always wanted to try that. Maybe they wouldn’t hire a branded slave, though. He could also spend more time with Jonghyun, to revive their friendship that was growing more gloomy every day.

_ Have you ever loved someone? Do you know how I feel? _ Jonghyun asked him after he confessed his love for Key, tears in those puppy eyes of his that broke Key’s heart. 

_ I did but not you,  _ he could’ve said but it seemed too cruel to tell Jonghyun of any love he might have experienced right after he had refused him. It was not an easy thing to do, even when Key knew that moment would happen sooner or later. Only he had hoped that after all these years of not seeing each other, Jonghyun’s crush on him would have cooled down.

Key tossed around in bed, kicking the sheets off of him. There was temporary freedom awaiting him but he realized he’d prefer busy days without any time to think. No, he did not want to spend time with his best friend who had unrequited feelings for him. 

“I lied,” Key confessed to his pillow as much as to Jonghyun sleeping soundly at the other side of the room, “I did enjoy being with Jinki.”  _ And I want to be with him some more.  _ He hated himself for that but he knew it was true.


	3. Jinki

It was nearly autumn. The sun wasn’t as hot even though it was just past midday and there were even occasional light rains. Jinki sat in their inner garden with a particularly fascinating book when one such a rain drove him inside. 

Their house was not big and you could hear anything from the entrance all the way to the hall at the back. Jinki heard his father now. He was fuming, letting out curses and even smashing a few things. It didn’t take much to anger him, so Jinki didn’t make anything of it until Taemin ran through the hall towards him, whispering: “It’s the merchant. Talk is our marriage arrangements are over.”

That was unexpected. Everything seemed to be going smooth, Jinki was even assured by Minho at the bathhouses that his father was serious about it and that money wasn’t what he wanted in this. That was a good thing since Lee family was anything but rich. Old and noble, to be sure but impoverished and without any real power for generations. No matter how much their father tried to deny that, it had been that way for decades.

“They say that the merchant left the city this morning, to travel to Vesi to meet a certain noble family with a girl of a marriageable age,” Taemin continued excitedly.

Weeks ago, Jinki would have joined the excitement but things had changed. Minho was as decent a husband as his sister could ever have and she’d have all the luxury too. Jinki’s own marriage plans had failed when his promised bride-to-be died in childhood and it wasn’t easy to find suitable matches, especially with the expectations their father had.

It troubled him for the rest of the day. Usually he preferred not to get involved in any plots and moves his father initiated (mostly since he hardly ever agreed with them) but this time he could not let it go.

That evening the bathhouse was as desolate and gloomy as the rainy weather outside. It might have been the weather that kept people at home or maybe there was some secret agreement among the people of importance not to gather tonight. Jinki still decided to seat himself in one of the chairs surrounding the baths and wait.

Even if the merchant was out of the city, going straight to his mansion would be seen as impolite without a prior invite and Jinki didn’t want to ruin things. But when Minho didn’t appear throughout the whole evening nor the one after that, Jinki lost his patience and just marched towards the mansion.

However half-way through the markets, he spotted two of the merchant’s slaves and sighed with a relief. Sending a message through them would be a much better idea. One of them was the singer, Jinki saw. “Jonghyun, was it?”

Jonghyun turned around and nodded slowly. He frowned a little too and Jinki wondered if there was anything in particular about him that offended the slave boy so much.

“I would like to visit the merchant’s son, Minho. Can you please let him know on your way back?”

“Yes, m’lord,” Jonghyun said listlessly and the other slave made a clumsy bow before the two of them scurried through the market towards the mansion.

Moments later Jinki was admitted inside, lead by Minho himself. It was sunny for the time being and the garden was sparkling in the morning sun, raindrops still visible on the grass blades. Minho was looking noticeably less happy than the weather.

“You must have heard the rumours,” the merchant's son started. “I’m sorry about that. Father should have been straightforward with you.”

Jinki didn’t like the sound of that but he forced himself to smile. “I’m sure your father had his reasons. I still hope we can talk it through a bit today.”

They sat in the drawing room again but Minho did not call for the singer nor was there any feast with casks of wine. They nibbled on olives and cheese only and washed the food down with ale. Jinki wasn’t especially fond of the drink but this was a good ale, dark and spiced.

“You must understand,” Minho was saying, “that I cannot speak for my father. Nor can I go against his decisions but I can try to persuade him. You have my support in that.”

That was good. At least if the merchant listened to his sons better than Jinki’s father did. Jinki tried to convey his plan to his father the night before, thinking that maybe it will lift his spirits and maybe even make him proud that his son was trying to please him for once. But all he said to that was “Nonsense. The merchant is a fickle man, I don’t want such a person in my family anyway.”

“My father will be pleased to know that,” Jinki lied. “I’ve been thinking that maybe a meeting with my sister would help change your father’s decisions?”

_ She’s a beauty and the merchant loves beautiful things _ , Jinki almost said.  _ She might not be as beautiful as Key, though. _

Minho considered that. “I would love to meet her and I’m sure my father would feel the same. As soon as he gets back, I will talk to him and if everything goes well, I’ll send a messenger to your house.”

Jinki emptied his glass, hardly tasting the spices. Dealing with people always made him thirsty. It wasn’t really his thing but he felt good about it this time, proud even.  _ Father will be pleased _ , he deluded himself.

  
  


The day was still young and the early autumn sun was bearable enough to ignore the usual afternoon rest. Jinki thought of going into the library down by the castle but the information he got from Minho was tempting him.

It was right before he went out of the mansion’s door when Jinki looked back and called out the question that’s been gnawing on him all throughout their talks. 

“Key? Oh, I gave him some free time since his service isn’t required right now. I’m quite sure he’s in the Upper city in one of the bathhouses there.”

The Upper city was not as crowded nor as lively as the docks. There were mostly craft shops like smithies or tanneries, if any. Majority of that city’s part was occupied by a huge round building that was known simply as the Arena and Jinki knew of just one bathhouse in those parts, right beneath the enormous fighting arena. It wasn’t frequented by anyone important, he was sure of that. Mostly it was the audience from the Arena that filled it on evenings of the fights.

It was still early and the place was near empty but for the dancers. It didn’t take long to find Key as he was one of those swaying on the dais and exchanged a smile with Jinki as soon as he sat down in the lounge. The single letter branding Key for a slave was neatly covered by a shawl, Jinki noticed. He wore a crimson veil and a robe of the same colour, lined with fringe and pearls that clinked every time Key moved. And he moved a lot, dancing sensually to the rhythm of the drums.

“You’re good at it,” Jinki praised him when the music stopped and Key walked off the dais towards him.

“Do I have a stalker?”

“I don’t know, do you?” Jinki laughed.

“Well, I am no bedmate today so if you try anything, I can have the owner of this place throw you out,” Key said while seating himself on the marble bench, pressing his thighs as close to Jinki’s as possible.

_ You’re the one starting things _ , Jinki wanted to object. He was too well aware of the warmth of Key’s skin and the strong lavender smell all about him. “So you’ve changed an occupation, is that the way of it?”

“If only I could.” Key played with the fringe on his flowy sleeves. “It’s always been my dream to be a dancer. Well, at least since I’ve become a slave.”

“What was your dream before?”

“You would laugh.”

“I might,” Jinki agreed. “But I promise to tell you my embarrassing dreams in exchange.”

Key looked him in the eye, as if making sure he’s going to keep that promise. “I started saving the little money I made from selling clams, thinking that one day I am going to buy myself a ship and travel the world.”

“As a pirate, I would hope,” Jinki put in. “There’s nothing embarrassing in that, though. I wanted to become a magician like Luke the Lucky.” It was a fairy tale his mother used to read to him all over and over again, until Jinki turned seven and his father informed him magic didn’t exist.

Key giggled. “Nothing like childhood dreams.”

_ No _ , Jinki agreed silently. He still felt half a child sometimes, imagining things that he knew were not possible and doing silly things. This whole affair was one such a silliness, although certainly not one fit for a children’s book.

“I’ve been to the mansion today.” Jinki told him all about the rumours that brought him there and the agreements they came to with Minho. 

Key pondered on it for a while, then said: “You should’ve stayed out of it. Minho is a good boy but his father is greedy and corrupted. You don’t really want such a person in the family.”

“Careful, now. You could lose your place if I were to convey your words to the merchant,” Jinki said in a light tone. 

“You wouldn’t do that, though.” Key didn’t seem to pick up the tone. His eyes were sharp and looking at Jinki with that piercing gaze of his. “Or would you?”

“Not without a price, no. But I could be bought.” It was hard not to laugh out seeing the tiny frown and the uncertainty on Key’s face.

But then he smiled, realizing Jinki is just fooling around. “What would be that price?”

The music started up again then and Jinki saw the dancers swaying in the rhythm. A group of merchants entered the lounge to refresh themselves at the banquet in the far left corner. Jinki ignored them all and took Key’s hand into his own. “You. If I knew that telling on you will result in you being thrown out, I would do it. Because I could take you in, then.”

_ Did that sound as a confession? _ Jinki wondered. If so, it was as absurdly stupid one as anything that concerned his possible feelings for the slave boy. 

There was a pause. Their hands were still intertwined and Key was looking at them, his face void of any emotion. After a while he said: “Would I serve to pleasure the visitors to your household? Or maybe your family members? Dance for them, bring them food? Being a slave is the same everywhere. Doesn’t matter where you bring me, I will still be one.”

_ I feel like a slave myself _ , Jinki thought.  _ A slave to the customs and rules. And a slave to you. _

One of the bathhouse workers dressed in a white toga came running towards them, asking Key to rejoin the stage. He nodded and rose. The pearls on his robe clinked as he turned around to Jinki. “Come dance with me.”

The bathhouse was slowly filling but Jinki couldn’t care less about all the eyes on them when they moved to the rhythm of the drums. He was a clumsy dancer at best but Key guided him, placing Jinki’s hands at his waist and swaying it to the sides. Key’s own hands traced the air, a picture of grace and sensuality. His eyes were there for Jinki only, absorbed by his own stare. 

Soon they were so close to each other Jinki could feel the boy’s breath on his lips and he moved closer still, letting their lips brush. He sucked on Key’s lower lip and smiled into the kiss that followed, initiated by Key. A laughter erupted somewhere in the lounge and Jinki looked for its source, suddenly remembering their audience. Eyes stared at them; eyes of common people and merchants, mostly but there were a few nobles here and there. 

There wasn’t anything wrong with what they were doing. Key was a slave and Jinki wasn’t married yet but it felt like he was breaking every rule and custom there was. 

“Can you take a break?”

“I’ve just taken one,” Key laughed. “And I’ve already told you I’m no bedmate tonight.”

Jinki growled in displeasure, making sure to look as devastated as possible.

Key chuckled, kissing him beneath the ear before whispering: “If you wait until the house is closed, I have a resting room for myself in the back.”

  
  


It was early morning when Jinki slipped back home. The servants were up and readying the breakfast but everyone else was yet abed. Jinki made his way into the kitchens to grab some food before going to sleep himself. The kitchenmaid gave him a look and another one a while later, making him frown. Every time she did that there was something going on, Jinki knew.

In the hallway, Jinki nearly bumped into his father and instantly knew him to be the source of the  _ going on _ . He sighed and braced for the inevitable scolding.

“You.” His father’s voice was ice-cold. “We have talked about it and I gave you no permission to go into the merchant’s house, yet you did.”

_ Word travels fast here _ , Jinki thought.  _ Next he might as well accuse me of whoring around with the merchant’s slave. _

“The merchant’s son is a good man.”

“I don’t want to hear any more of this. Choi Yun has insulted our family by negotiating with someone else while he had no decency to decline our offer first. I will not deal with the likes of him.”

Father liked to have the last word in every argue and had to have things exactly the way he’d wanted. They had argued countless times and Jinki usually subdued, trying to escape the conflict as soon as possible. This time however, he decided to stand his ground. “What if he comes back and agrees with the marriage?”

“The one here or the one he’s gone to chase off?” his father spat.

“Whatever reasons he had for going there, it’s not our place to judge. And you know we have no queue of grooms to choose from.” More power or more money were most certainly the merchant’s reasons but it wouldn’t do to point that out now.

His father eyed him, his jaw moving slowly as he grinded his teeth together in displeasure. “I do know that. And you would do well to remember that the next time you spurn a bride I suggest you.”

_ I haven’t spurned them _ , Jinki wanted to objects.  _ One died and the others spurned  _ me. He was quite sure he lost his argument then but father made a pause and then said: “You have my leave to go there with Subin  _ if  _ the merchant summons you. You will not go there on your own like some dog and you will not plead if you are refused. We are a family of honour.”

_ Of honour and poverty _ , Jinki wanted to add but smiled and thanked his father for his consideration.


	4. Jinki

_ What in the world am I doing _ , Jinki mused as the two of them climbed the steep street leading to the merchant’s mansion. His sister Subin was dressed modestly in lavender shawl and a matching dress full of fine ornaments. Her hair was braided and styled up in a bun, accentuating her long, thin neck. She was nervous, Jinki could tell. The usually loud and cheerful girl he was used to seeing at home was solemn and barely smiled even when Jinki tried to joke.

There was no reason for Jinki to go out of his way to help realize this marriage, yet there he was. His father might have initially been against it after the merchant’s insolence but Jinki felt a need to see this through.  _ Minho is a good man _ , he told himself.  _ I am doing this for her, not for me. _

Walking in silence, Jinki pondered some more and remembered a conversation with his younger brother soon after he came back from his second visit to the mansion.

“You’re head over heels for him,” Taemin laughed. “You should just ask to buy him from the merchant.”

“With what, pray?”  _ I would give a hundred goats for you.  _ “Besides, you can’t just ask for someone’s slave, it’s not customary. And the merchant won’t offer him on his own.”

“You can ask when Subin is married to his son,” Taemin pointed out.

There was that convenient custom. And the fact that he would have an excuse to come over to the house as often as he wished, saying he was visiting his sister. It would be a lie to say Jinki didn’t give that any thought but he preferred not to express whatever plans he had.  _ What happens, happens. _

It wasn’t a long climb and soon they came to the steel gate. Subin looked at him with her dark eyes full of uncertainty. “Will there be honeycakes?”

“There will be honeycakes,” Jinki promised and hoped he was right.

Subin smiled brightly. “All’s well then.”

It was a sort of an inside joke of theirs. Ever since she was little, his sister had loved honeycakes above everything and whenever they had to go visit someone, she had always inquired whether her favourite food will be served before agreeing to come. 

There were no honeycakes in the feast but there was a capon and a smoked salmon and sweet potatoes. Then came the boiled quail eggs, gosling with parsley and ginger and much more, all the dishes rich in spices and as varied as an actual wedding feast. 

They feasted in a room that was even more spacious than the drawing room that Jinki had frequented before and heavily decorated with various paintings and expensive vases and statues. The merchant sat at the head of the table, while Minho and his younger brother on the sides. Jinki and Subin were placed at the other end of the table.

Jonghyun was playing a light, graceful melody on his harp, eyes half-closed. And beside him, Key danced just as gracefully, dressed in his flowy, see-through garb. Jinki made a point not to look at him but he could  _ feel  _ Key’s stare on him most of the time. It made him sweat a great deal more than was usual in the almost chilly autumn evening and the conversation came and went without him engaging in it much.

Thankfully, Minho did most of the talking. Him and Subin seemed genuinely interested in each other and Jinki was happy to see that.  _ It isn’t so selfish of me when she’s happy _ .

Jinki’s eyes wandered towards Key and lingered there longer than he intended. There were two more slaves dancing behind him but they couldn’t hope to match the way Key moved. His moves were smooth yet with an edge. And they were getting more and more erotic by the minute, to the point that Jinki felt slightly aroused and had to abruptly concentrate on the gosling and bread on his plate.

“It is quite late,” Jinki heard himself say some moments later. “We ought not to disturb you any longer.”

“Nonsense,” the merchant said, more lively and satisfied than he’d ever seemed when Jinki talked to him before. Maybe he had made his mind seeing Subin in person, although Jinki found that hard to believe.  “It wouldn’t do to have a lady walk through the city this late at night. I insist you stay until the morning.”

“I will send for Subin’s handmaiden, then.” It wouldn’t do for a lady to spend a night somewhere without her handmaiden either. 

_ I am staying to please the host _ , Jinki told himself as he exchanged glances with Key and saw him smile his wicked, one-corner-of-the-lips-tilted smile. 

His was the same room he’d stayed in the last time Jinki were here. Subin was given a room across the hall, with her handmaiden in the room next door. From what he’d glimpsed from the hallway it was just as richly decorated as Jinki’s own quarters.

“There’s fountains down there!” Subin called out from her room’s windows that were apparently facing the back garden. She looked thrilled and excited yet Jinki felt anything but that himself.

“I have mixed feelings about this,” Jinki confessed when Key entered his room.

The windows had been open up till now and it was rather chilly in the room, so he slipped under the blanket with his clothes on. Key leaned against the desk next to the door. “I won’t question your choice of wanting your sister married into this house.”

“Not about that.” Jinki felt the doubts twisting his guts in knots. “I did what was expected of me and maybe a little more but… my motives weren’t exactly pure.”

Key raised an eyebrow. “You and impure intentions?”

_ You’d be surprised _ , Jinki thought. Sometimes he did things in the spur of the moment, sometimes he ignored everything else and let one thing decide his actions. Or one person.

“The things is…”  _ The thing is that I love you and I want to ask for you, buy you, steal you, whatever it takes. _ The words got stuck in his throat, though. “The thing is I don’t really care whom Subin marries. I love her and I want her to be happy but I’m not someone who would go out of their way to arrange anything myself. I  _ let _ things happen, not initiate them.”

“So I’ve noticed.” Key fixed his eyes on him, in that uncomfortable piercing kind of way that made Jinki flinch. “You’re also not good with feelings and planning ahead. You keep your opinions to yourself, mostly. You don’t judge others and you have a distaste for conflict. And you don’t like ale.”

“No, wine’s better.” Jinki laughed. “You probably know me better than I know myself. Maybe you should be the one doing all the decisions for me from now on.”

“If that were the case, you’d be at your home right now, as far away from me as possible.”

Jinki frowned. “Why?”

“Because this is all wrong. I can be your entertainment for the night but I cannot be anything beyond that. You are noble born and I’m a slave. A  _ male _ slave on top of that.”

“But I-”

“‘Love you’? What is love, pray? You can have someone love you your whole life but you don’t love them back even though you want to and all it does is make you feel guilty. You can have a mutual love with someone and then be thrown away like a used towel. All that love ever causes is  _ pain _ .” 

Key turned around and poured himself a glass of wine. A heavy silence ruled the room, interrupted only by the clank of the flagon and the glass. Jinki thought of saying something but then he dismissed it as a silly, poor choice of words. His sister would know what to say at a moment like this, he knew. All Jinki could do was stand up and wrap his arms around Key’s waist, resting his head on the boy’s shoulder.

Key sighed. “I love you too, you know. You treat me like a person and I actually  _ feel _ something when we have sex. But there could never be more and you know that as well as I do.”

There was sadness in Key’s voice and Jinki wasn’t sure what to do with such a confession. Confessions should be thrill and joy and whispering in the ears. He tried to do just that, moving his lips closer to Key’s ear and muttering a soft “I still love you”, which felt both awkward and amazing. He kissed Key’s smooth neck and shoulder and moved his hands lower at the same time.

Key didn’t push him away but he didn’t do anything else either. He let Jinki caress him, make him hard and only then turned to kiss him. Key’s lips tasted of the sweet wine he drank moments ago. Key’s breath was nicely warm on Jinki’s skin as he placed small kisses all over him. 

When they were both rid of their garbs, Jinki pushed Key against the desk and seated him there. The flagon rattled dangerously and almost spilled its content but they did not care. The air that was chilly just minutes ago seemed to burn Jinki’s skin now. He lurched forward for a hungry kiss and entered Key. 

It was fast and passionate and loud. And it made Jinki forget all his mixed feelings for there was just the moment, just him and Key and the heat.


	5. Key

Key didn’t wake up to the first call of his name but when he finally did, he was immediately overwhelmed with things happening all around him. Jinki was the one calling for him and shaking him by the shoulder frantically. A girl was sobbing in the corner of the room and another one was standing above her, crying more silently, with her head bowed. It had to be Jinki’s sister and her handmaiden even though he didn’t see their faces clearly.

At first, he thought that someone had died.  _ Minho _ .  _ Who else would the girl be crying over in their house? _ It gave him the chills but then he listened beyond the sobs and heard nothing. The house was perfectly still as it usually had been in the black of night, no one else was wailing or walking around.

“We need to get Subin back home,” Jinki was saying in a rush, his voice full of pain. “Can you ask Jonghyun to see the two of them off?”

“Why? What happened?” Key was still feeling drowsy and confused.

“Something not good,” Jinki said brusquely. “Jonghyun can be trusted, right?”

_ Oh god, _ Key thought as he looked Jinki’s sister over and as it hit him,  _ not this.  _ “I’ll get him, you stay here.”

Jonghyun hadn’t been asleep, as was his custom. The slaves all had rooms close to each other and Key didn’t fail to notice that there was candle light visible beneath the door next to theirs. At first, Jonghyun seemed reluctant to go but when Key voiced out the terrible thought, he just nodded and followed him.

Subin dried her tears by the time they came back but when Jonghyun walked in, she winced and stiffened.

“He’s my best friend since childhood,” Key said, wondering whether that would even mean anything to her. “And he would not hurt a fly. You will go with him and everything will be all right.”

When the door closed behind the three of them, Key looked at Jinki who stood there mortified, his hands unconsciously curled into fists and trembling ever so slightly. 

“She was raped, wasn’t she?”

Jinki closed his eyes and nodded.

It was one of his fellow dancers, Key knew instantly. The tall, quiet one that hadn’t been in the house longer than a couple of weeks. Yet Key was sure he knew him well enough to make a decent guess. It was their shared room that he saw lit up a while ago too. It made him feel angry and sad at the same time and he wanted to scream and cry. But he held it in and said the same thing to Jinki, “It’s going to be all right. We won’t say a thing, neither will whoever did this. I’ll make sure of that.”

Jinki woke up from his black out. “Make sure of that? You want me to hold my tongue, pretend nothing happened and send Subin to this wretched house again to live the rest of her life here?”

“I didn’t-”

“It’s all my fault.” Jinki started to cry, then. “This was all my idea. I thought that if Minho sees her, they’ll fall in love and it would persuade the merchant too. I thought this would make her happy but look what I did. I didn’t want that.”

“None of this is your fault.” Key crossed the distance between them and tried to hug him but Jinki wrenched free. “Does she know who did it?”

“She didn’t see his face properly. It was dark and-” Jinki’s voice broke. “It has to be one of the slaves here though, who else?”

“I have my guess. If it’s justice you want, I can threaten him into confessing and deal with him. I have slit a man’s throat in sleep before, I can do it again.”

“You’ve killed a-” Jinki looked at him, incredulous. “No, I don’t want to know. We have to let the merchant know. He has to do the justice himself.”

“That’s not a good idea, Jinki. You know that.” Once the merchant knows, not only was the marriage doomed, the poor girl’s prospects for any marriage at all were. That was how lords played their game.

“Wake them all up.”

“You can’t mean to-”

“I said wake them all up.” Jinki’s voice was sharp, strict, with no room for protests. Key had never seen him this angry before and even though he had all the reasons to be, this just wasn’t a good idea at all.

For all the years he had served in the house, Key had never been to Minho’s rooms. They were spacious yet rather modest and Minho started dressing up as soon as Key explained the situation. If Jinki’s was a silent, intent fury, Minho’s was the loud, fierce one. He called the slave a lot of ugly names and promised to do justice. 

But it was his father who would decide about that. And when they all stood in the drawing room lit up by a single candle on the hearth’s ledge, Key wasn’t sure it’s justice they would get. The merchant’s face didn’t show any feeling. He stood there, listened to Minho who fervently relayed Key’s words, all the while looking at Jinki who stared back at him with hate and revulsion.

Key was let to stay, although it was more likely that they had forgotten he was even there.

“Justice?” Choi Yun asked when Minho finished. “And what do you imagine justice to be?”

“Rapers are sent to prison if they’re freemen and sentenced to death if they’re not,” Jinki said calmly.

He was right but he did not know how expensive the slave had been. The merchant brought him all the way from the north, rare beauty with skin paler than Key’s who could sing and dance as well as any of the entertainers at the emperor’s court.

“Is it justice if there is no trial? I doubt your sister would want to be dragged through courts, though. Yet we cannot prove anything here. You can prove she was despoiled but you cannot prove who was the culprit, can you?”

“Key said he knows the one,” Jinki argued.

“Did he?” The merchant gave him a side look. “I trust he did not personally see the culprit though?”

All of them turned towards him at that. The merchant, Minho, Jinki, they were all staring at him, each with different expectations.  _ Justice _ , Key almost spat at them.  _ What justice is there ever for a slave but punishment when they do something wrong? _ Yet he knew this time it was well deserved. But it wasn’t that knowing that made him say: “I saw Joel entering the lady’s room.”

Jinki gave him a hardly noticeable grateful nod, Minho frowned and the merchant  _ smiled _ . It was a wretched smile, though, bitter and promising disasters to come.

“And what were you doing out in the halls, pray?”

“Going to the privy. His lordship might notice that the guest rooms are across each other.” Key didn’t mean to be sarcastic but he knew his fate was sealed, no matter his choice of words to follow. Once he decided to support Jinki, there was no turning back.

The merchant ignored that. “Very well, then. First of all, I think we both don’t want the marriage to progress any further now. And if I were to let the city know what happened here, your sister couldn’t dream of getting married into a good family. I could kill the slave then, showing them that justice had been done. Or I can keep him unharmed and also silent about what happened here. The choice is yours.”

_ Take the chance and leave _ , Key sent out his thoughts to Jinki. This was as good a deal he could get from the wretched merchant.

“No,” Jinki said slowly. “There is nothing that could compensate for what happened here but I still demand… I demand you to geld the slave. You will also pay our family. In gold, in goods, whatever you find best. It would be the price that would have been your son’s dowry. And you will let Key go.”

_ Too much _ , Key thought with a furrowed brow.  _ You’re a fool to ask that much.  _ He didn’t like being included in the bargain either, no matter how well Jinki meant by that. He’d much rather get the deserved whipping and be sent to some low-class brothel or the sewers. Then he could run away as he had planned with Jonghyun so many times, forget that he was a branded slave for once and choose his own destiny. There were ways to remove tattoos, one more painful than the other but Key would do it all the same.

“We should do that much, father,” Minho said. It wasn’t easy standing up to the merchant but Minho had his way with him and for a moment Key dared to hope that would sway the merchant. 

Choi Yun did smile but said, “Out. I don’t want to see you here again. Out before I change my mind and let the whole city know that your sister is a whore.”

Things happened all at once. Jinki lurched forward and hit the merchant with a fist but Minho stayed his hand, lessening the blow. Even so the merchant’s lip was bleeding and a sudden fury controlled him. 

Before things could get any worse, Key grabbed Jinki’s other hand and said: “Get out. You’ve heard his lordship. You’re not wanted here.”

It hurt seeing Jinki recoil and look at him with both confusion and sudden mistrust. It did the job of getting him out of the house though, and that was what Key had intended. He knew what men can do to each other in fights and although he didn’t doubt for a second the thin, weak merchant would lose, this was his house full of his people that would abide him had he asked them to beat up or even kill Jinki.

“To your rooms, both of you,” the merchant spat when Jinki was out of sight. Then he dedicated a spiteful look to Key. “I will deal with you later.”

_ There will be no later _ , Key told himself with a sad smile as he rushed to his room. It took him just a couple of minutes to gather his belongings. There wasn’t much and he didn’t take everything either. There were a few expensive gifts he had received from the lords visiting the house but he left those untouched in the drawer. Key threw his simplest garbs into a sack, added a stale loaf of bread and cheese and a few keepsakes from his mother, Jonghyun and a person he used to love a long time ago.

Jonghyun wasn’t back by the time Key was done with packing and he did not dare stay any longer or his chance could be gone forever. If he knew letters, Key would have left him a note but a dried daisy on Jonghyun’s bed was the only message he could have left behind. It was one from the bouquet Jonghyun gave him when he had confessed. 

_ Maybe I will meet him on my way out _ , Key hoped. But it wasn’t the sewers and narrow streets known only to urchins that Jonghyun would choose for his way back and Key knew he had seen the last of his best friend when he left through the back door.


	6. Jinki

Facing his father hadn’t been the hardest part. Jinki had withstood the yelling, the accusations, all while knowing he deserved it and more. What truly made him want to run away and never return again was seeing Subin. She wasn’t crying anymore nor mentioning what happened in any way but it had changed her, Jinki could see that. And it hurt to watch all the enthusiasm with which she had lived her life wither and leave an empty shell behind.

_ Time will heal the wounds on her soul _ , Jinki hoped.  _ It might not be all right tomorrow or the next month but maybe after a few years she’ll marry someone she loves and forgets. _

The merchant did not act. After Jinki left the mansion, the stirred waters calmed yet he was still awaiting another storm. Just as he had expected, his father chose not to act against the merchant and Jinki had no more will to do anything on his own.  _ I’d only mess up again, better stay out of everything. _

It still haunted him. 

“None of this is your fault,” his younger brother Taemin echoed Key’s words after Jinki told him everything.

Jinki hugged the boy, holding him so tight he was like to crush him.  _ All of this is my fault _ , he thought.  _ And all of the reasons why I did this sound stupid now. I wanted to do something for the family, to make my father proud and my sister happy. To be with Key as often as possible. _

He would never see the slave again, he knew. A couple of days after the incident, Jonghyun came back to their house, indignant and fidgety. 

“He’s here, isn’t he?” were his first words.

Jinki had half-expected this scenario. Only in his imagination, Key did come to his house to hide. “Sadly, he’s not. He ran away, didn’t he?”

Jonghyun nodded. “Well, thank you.” The slave bowed and made for the door, then paused. “We’ve always planned to run away together. It’s not long since we’ve discussed it last. Key said he saved up some of the money from when he danced in the bathhouses and I receive part of my wage since I’m not branded.”

“I’m sorry.” Jinki couldn’t think of anything else to say.

“I haven’t told him yet but next month I will have enough to pay my family’s debt. I should be back home by then, so if Key ever seeks you out, could you please tell him that?”

“You have my word.”

Jonghyun nodded again, with a soft smile spreading on his face. Then he was gone, leaving Jinki with a mix of feelings. Knowing that even Key’s best friend had no idea where the slave had escaped to left him feeling slightly better but at the same time it made him all the more worried about him. 

_ Wherever you are, I hope there’s roof above your head and food at your table,  _ Jinki prayed. He wasn’t particularly devout, although the Three were his family’s gods just as they were for most of the people in the city. Whether that mattered when you prayed, he didn’t know. He hoped not.

  
  


Weeks and months came and went and nothing much changed, except the weather. The hot and scorching summer was definitely gone and the days were mostly cool and evenings chilly. It was raining often and the sea was restless, much like Jinki himself. 

The bathhouses weren’t half as entertaining as they had been before, or so it felt to him. Jinki still frequented them, hoping against odds to see Key up there at the dais, swaying to the rhythm and smiling at him. It was a silly wish, hek new. Even if Key had successfully escaped and got rid of his slave tattoo, he wouldn’t do something as foolish as finding a job in the city, where he could easily meet people known to him.

One evening Jinki glimpsed Jonghyun down by the docks. The former slave didn’t notice him as he was too busy with his business. He was attending one of the stalls at the market, filled with various fabrics and decorative accessories. His sister was with him, Jinki knew right away when he saw how alike the two of them looked.

The life Jinki lead was the same he had been used to. Only everything felt different.

Almost a year later Jinki had finally decided to leave. To his surprise, there had been no one stopping him. His father had arranged a decent marriage for Subin and the whole family was busy with preparations, so when Jinki came with his announcement that he would leave the city and further his studies at the Academy, they just let him go.

His journey took him north, towards the Lands of the Night, to an old town called Greencourt. The days were short there and weather cold, which had taken him some time to get used to but otherwise the place felt satisfactory. Jinki exchanged letters with Subin and Taemin nearly every week, sending them a little gift every time; flowers and food unknown to people living in Qali, books and clothes and such.

There were days when he had forgotten all about a slave he might have loved once but those were outnumbered by days when he wondered if Key was still alive. He’d heard of Jonghyun becoming friends with Jinki’s little brother, who was just as unconcerned about the differences between the nobles and common people as Minho had been. Of Minho he knew little and less but Taemin wrote that the talk of the town was the merchant plans to move out of Qali.

No one had heard anything about Key.

Not until a particularly bland day that Jinki spent strolling aimlessly through the weekly markets. He had just been choosing an embroidered shawl for his sister when someone brushed fingers over his shoulder and said, “The blue one goes better with my hair.”

For all the endless months he hadn’t seen him, Key still looked the same. Jinki felt years older after all the guilt and regrets he had experienced after the incident and when he looked into the mirror he thought he  _ looked _ years older as well. Key ought to have changed as well, yet there he stood in his constant beauty, dressed in a modest but well-fitting white coat, the top unbuttoned so that it left his collarbones bare. Where a tattoo of his name’s initial had been only a scar no bigger than a birthmark remained.

“It’s for my sister,” Jinki said and turned his eyes back to the shawl in his hands. The one he chose was light pink with red roses. “I don’t usually think to buy gifts for people who might be dead for all I know.”

Key took him by the arm and murmured, “I’m sorry. I had to leave the city, you know that. There was death sentence awaiting me if I had been caught. I came back after a year and found you gone too.”

Jinki bought the shawls (pink and blue) and then took them further away from the busy market. They walked by the river, on the eastern side that was filled with shops and taverns, people laughing and music playing. It was chilly but windless, a typical day in the town.

Key did most of the talking while Jinki stole sideway looks at him, finding it hard to believe he was really seeing the boy again. Key told him how he left through sewers and out-of-the-way streets that he had come to know as a child. There was coin enough in his pockets to buy him what food he needed on his way and he either walked or traveled with peasants who were kind enough to offer him a ride on their carriages. It was the north he headed to as well but not as far as Greencourt. 

“I did what jobs I found, helping out in a tavern, working the fields. But never the bathhouses or places any nobles could come across. I was far from Qali but not far enough to lose caution.” Key looked at him gingerly as they walked. “I have missed you.”

Jinki wanted nothing more than to echo those words, to drag the boy closer and kiss him until they were both breathless. He said, “You could have let me know somehow.”

“I can’t write. And I had no one I could send with a message.”

“Jonghyun was worried about you.”

“I know.” Key paused for a moment, then asked, “And you?”

“No.”

Key laughed. “You’re no better at lying than I am.”

“Yet we both lie all the same,” Jinki mused. “You lied a while ago too. Branded slaves aren’t killed if they run away. If that were the case, the city would soon be in a shortage of them.”

“No,” Key admitted. “But you do get hanged for murder, whether it’s a slave or a freeman you kill. Unless your are a noble, of course, and alas, that I am not.”

That made Jinki look at him, frowning. The question was there at the tip of his tongue but he couldn’t make himself voice it out.

All the same, Key confessed, “I slit the bastard’s throat. He had deserved it for what he did to your sister. I told you I’ve already done that once, back in the streets when a man tried to kidnap my little sister to make a slave of her. It’s a tough life for someone not born and raised on cushions.”

_ He had deserved it _ , Jinki thought but at the same time his guts twisted into knots. It shouldn’t have been Key who had to deal with this. “I’m just glad you’re unhurt,” he said finally.

“Unhurt and  _ free _ ,” Key added. “Unless you would have me become bound to you.”

“Were you ever?” Jinki asked. “Bound?” Key looked at him questioningly and Jinki had to smile. “All this time I’ve been wondering whether you were truly the slave and me the lord. You took your life into your own hands, fled while making sure to do justice and I could only sit around and ponder over my guilt, not being able to do anything at all.”

“You fled in the end, too. We’re both free now.”

_ Free _ . Jinki had always yearned for freedom. To shed his noble birth, to forget the annoying customs and to do whatever he wanted. He stopped walking and grabbed Key’s hand. The milky white skin he’d remembered was tanner now and Key’s hands were full of new blisters but they felt good to the touch, just as his lips did when Jinki kissed him.

**Author's Note:**

> //rape warning: it's not depicted in detail nor does it concern the main characters, just to be fair.  
> underage warning: it's a fantasy world similar to medieval/16th century-ish western Asia, so it's only underage when you put nowadays standards to it.//
> 
> Honestly, the story sounded better in my head than when I wrote it ^^;   
> But at least I enjoyed the smut scenes xD I mean, I always found them awkward but not because it's smut but because I always wrote the kind of stories where they just didn't fit. Here they were pretty much the center of the plot, so they felt quite natural (but they're probably still awkward duh).


End file.
